Intrepid Me

I donned the boots with shining blades, And tottered to the rink, And as I stepped onto the ice, My heart began to sink. How was I, to stay vertical, On this metal edge so thin, I felt my legs were giving way, And my head was in a spin. I staggered forth, intrepid me, And toppled straight away. I tried to rise with dignity, But my feet would not obey. I'll never do a figure eight, Or a treble what's its name, My only time trying to skate, Will have no claim to fame. How slippery this sport, making One tremble at the knees. I was holding on to everything, Even my dungarees. I really needed thick padding, On every part of me, I've now so many bruises, All the colours of a blackberry. The ladies glided gracefully, The men moved with such speed. I know practise makes perfect, And that is all I need. But it all seemed such an effort To try and stay upright. An 'Ice Skater' in the making? I really don't think so, quite! © Ernestine Northover